


The Rover

by goodnightfern



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x19, Kelly - Freeform, M/M, MORE mixtape angst, Nephilim, Sam Winchester - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 14:03:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10832769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodnightfern/pseuds/goodnightfern
Summary: Kelly is safe, Cas has faith, and the new world rises from the shambles of the old.





	The Rover

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry idk

Exhaustion hangs in every wrinkle of his coat, but Castiel still smiles. Still puts his hand on her belly, feels the kick.

They've been on the road for three hours before she asks, "So, your... friends? Back there?"

"They'll be fine."

"Good." Kelly glances at Castiel, strong and silent with his hands on the wheel. He looks happy, he really does.

The road is wet and misty, tinted pink as the sun starts to rise. Cas slows as they pass through some little logging town, pauses before a drugstore. "Do you need anything?"

Yeah, she does. All of her stuff she left behind. She's supposed to take the zinc and iron and her prenatal supplements and that tea that's supposed to be good for lactation. They only find half of what she's looking for but she doesn't tell Cas that. There will be more drugstores in the future. Cas takes every item off the shelf with care, inspects every label before putting it in his basket.

Kelly wonders what exactly an angel is. If Cas was around for the cave paintings. How many births has he seen? How many deaths? But here he is, and he grabs her hand one last time before they get in the car. His smile is tired until he looks at her.

"I see where you get your faith from," Cas tells her when she's popping prenatals and washing them down with a stale water bottle. "Somewhere along the way, I wonder if I forgot the miracle of life. The reason for it all."

"The reason for what?"

"Free will," Cas says, and it sounds like he's echoing someone else. "I knew that, once. That life, in itself, that was the miracle. That destiny couldn't hold a candle to the power of choice."

"But this is destiny," Kelly says. "Whether it was planned or not. It happened. And here we are."

"Here we are," Cas repeats, and grabs her hand again. A red sun rises before them, and Cas inhales, deep. Rolls down the windows, lets the wind ruffle through their hair and tingle their skin and remind them. Here they are.

"Where are we going?" Kelly asks. "Where now?"

"Wherever we like." His fingertips are rough, skin cracked. "Where would you like? What do you think? What does he tell you, what does he show you?"

She chuckles, a little giddy in the chill wind rushing through the windows. In the thing inside of her, the rush of the potential. "Nothing yet. But - " and she touches her belly again, feeling the odd morphings of the Nephilim inside. The thrill of the agony. Her evolution. "Guess I'm gonna find out."

"It was good," Cas says, sounded winded. "It was - it was good."

Shifting in the seat, Kelly feels something hard poking her butt. She pulls out a cassette tape and doesn't miss Dean's name on the label. Cas snatches it away before she can get a good look. Shoves it under the driver's seat.

So maybe not exactly friends, then.

Kelly looks out the window, sees the woods rush by. Wonders how long Castiel has been throwing himself down for humans. Wonders what kind of a choice this is for Castiel. What her baby must have shown Castiel.

It must be something amazing. She smiles, holds herself a little tighter.

 

Kelly eats from drive-thrus these days. The options aren't as bad as she'd thought, chicken salads and juicy burgers are good for her. Dairy Queen ice cream and chicken gravy when she craves it, Wendy's chili when her stomach is upset. Cas never likes to stop anywhere for long. No diners, that’s for sure. Motels are a hard no, too - too easy to be snuck up on.

There are places in the woods Castiel knows. Places deep in the Appalachians, the places Kelly's grandmother used to speak of. Snakehandlers and moonshiners, the old ghosts of the coal mines and smoke drifting from cleared mountaintops. Cas knows the way. Past ATV tracks  
and down old mining roads to worm-eaten cabins half-choked in moss. All Cas needs to do is touch her hand, and anything that might bite is sent away. Cas paints sigils on every doorway and window, even on the inside of the truck. Cas slices open his own finger to paint symbols on her belly.

Cas never sleeps, even if he always looks tired. Maybe it's because he's so old, because he's only borrowing this body for a while. He doesn't know how to feed it right. When Kelly gives him some of her crispy chicken salad with croutons he chews for a long time.

The one thing Cas likes is coffee. He drinks it black, cold, clogged with powdered creamer, any way he can get it.

"You don't need food," Kelly observes. "But does caffeine help you?"

"I don't need it."

"You like it."

"I'm... used to it." Frowning, Cas sets down the coffee. Reaches for her hand again. It always makes Kelly gasp to feel the surge, the spark between their hands. Cas seems bigger when he lets go. He's smiling again. "But, no. I don't need it."

The baby wriggles when Castiel removes his hand and Kelly sees the Winchesters again. Shouting and teary-eyed and furious.

“They’re coming after us,” she says, hushed. “The Winchesters.”

“They don’t give up easily.”

“If,” she starts, slowly. “If I don’t survive the birth, you’ll keep him safe. You’ll do everything you can.”

“Of course.” He glances over at her, smile bright. “I promise you, Kelly.”

She nods.

The mountains rear over the highway, silent and lush. A fine mist sprinkles the windshield. Cas turns on the radio, flickers through the static before pulling out the tape.

“Do you like Led Zeppelin?”

“I guess,” Kelly shrugs. Her parents liked Led Zeppelin. Stairway to Heaven and all that. Cas pops in the tape and a sweet, rollicking tune about going to California starts up. On the steering wheel, Castiel’s hand matches the beat.

Pregnant women are supposed to listen to Bach or something to make their baby be good at math. Something she read online, somewhere, on one of those terrible clickbait sites. If anything, Kelly thinks Led Zeppelin will make her baby good at painting. He could paint these mountains, the mist rising over the pines.

In her dreams, he shows her the future again.

Dean is standing in a doorway, sodden and sorrowful. He’s quiet this time, the only sound the beating of rain on a corrugated tin roof.

Cas moves to him. Takes his hands and holds them.

When she wakes up, startled, Cas’s jaw is locked while Led Zeppelin sings about lost loves and longing.

It was just a snapshot. Maybe Dean will find his own faith. Cas isn’t leaving her. She reaches for his coat, just to make sure, and Cas gives her a single lost look before pulling over with a screech. Kelly cries out, but Cas just stops. Leans over and touches her belly again.

The light fills his eyes, and Cas shudders. Relaxes.

“I have faith,” Castiel says, but he’s only talking to himself.

Cas isn’t going anywhere. They’ll be okay.

 

 

The Winchesters do find them, of course. Kelly is squatting by a stream, trying to freshen up a bit before they hit the road again. Perched on a dead log swollen with mushrooms, Castiel seems to be meditating. He does that sort of thing. Something holy and angelic and it always makes Kelly smile to see him like that.

“They’re coming,” Cas says, eyes still closed, and Kelly turns to see the rustling in the trees, at the top of the hill where the dirt road carved through the forest.

“Should we run?”

“No.” Cas opens his eyes again. “Stay here. I’ll talk to them.”

“Be careful.”

“Of course.”

Kelly has been learning how to move quieter. How to step softly through the woods. She likes the way living on the run has changed her. Made her more aware of everything around. She slips through vines, crouches behind rocks, until she sees Castiel.

“I took the battery out of my phone,” Castiel says. “How did you find me?”

“Angel feathers, genius,” Dean says. “That you gave us. Remember that? Course you don’t.”

“How many do you have left?”

“Some. Enough." Dean swallows. Sam is in the car, still, hunched and silent.

Angel feathers. Kelly wonders what Castiel would look like. If his wings would be white and fluffy, or dark and terrifying, or brown and speckled like a predatory bird.

“They can’t have much Grace left in them by now. " Cas draws back against the cabin door. There’s a healthy thirty feet between him and the Impala, and Cas glances down at the space between them. “You set a trap for me,” he says, softly. “You would capture me against my will.”

“You’re not even Cas,” Dean spits. “You’re not Cas. Maybe you’re wearing his face, but I know Cas. And you ain’t it.”

Cas tilts his head to the side, eyeing Dean. “I haven’t changed, Dean. I have found faith. If you would be willing to -”

“The Cas I know doesn’t have faith.”

“I wanted this.”

“No.” Dean’s voice is cracking. “You never - you don’t want this. The Cas I know - “

“Rather than speak of the Cas you know, accept the Castiel who is.” Some cosmic energy snaps when Castiel straightens his shoulders.

“So you’re gonna be like that, then.” Wiping the back of his mouth, Dean forces a smile. “I don’t know who the fuck you are, buddy. But if you’re gonna take Cas, you’re gonna have to get through me.”

“Get through you? I’m already here.”

Sam steps out of the car, finally. He’s wiping a hand through his hair. “Just - take it easy for a sec, Dean?”

Dean flinches, but stands back. There’s an unlit match in Sam’s hand, and he’s hovering over where the angel trap must be.

“Good to see you, Castiel,” Sam says, but the friendly veneer is too thin. “Where’s Kelly?”

“She’s safe.”

“With you?”

“Yes.”

Both of the Winchesters have a gun in their back pocket. Dean is reaching for his own, frustration written in his face, and Kelly wonders if she should run. Inside her, the child’s heartbeat quickens.

But Cas is calling her.

She circles back, goes through the back door of the cabin, and emerges at his side. The Winchesters are poised like animals about to pounce, but Castiel just reaches for her hand and -

They’re in the truck. Back on the road - not the dirt road, the highway they drove in on. Cas’s eyes are glowing. His laughter is shaky but confident.

“I haven’t flown in a long time.” He squeezes her palm before returning his hand to the wheel.

“It was him?”

“He saved us,” Cas says, sounding awed.

After that, they’re more confident. Daring to step into a Wal-Mart to buy more fish oil and clean clothes, blankets and socks for the baby. It’s thrilling to pick out onesies. People shoot them congratulating looks and smiles, ask Kelly how far along she is, when’s the due date.

Less than a month. Less than two weeks. She makes up lies and holds Castiel’s hand, and Cas always beams like a proud father.

Kelly is well and truly over any fear of death. Maybe she can look down from Heaven and see what happens. Or maybe she’ll be there for it. Just her and Castiel and the baby, living however they can. Castiel will teach the baby all about magic and angels and stuff, and she can teach him how to read and walk. Kelly buys alphabet primers and touch-and-feel books about puppies. The truck fills up with diapers and formula and they keep moving forward.

But the mixtape keeps playing, and the vision keeps replaying, and it fills Kelly with enough dread to one day press the eject button, right in the middle of Ten Years Gone.

It’s just a little black plastic and tape. Who the hell even uses tapes anymore? Who still makes mixtapes?

Cas looks at the tape in her hands. Takes it and considers it with his lips in a tight line.

“You’re right. I should throw this out the window,” Cas says. There’s miles of open woods on either side of them.

“I just - my head was hurting.”

“Right.”

Castiel’s silence is terrible and overwhelming. Delicately, Kelly reaches for the tape. “Let me just,” she says, and tucks it inside her coat. Once it’s out of sight, Cas sighs heavily. Reaches for the cupholder automatically, frowns when he realizes there’s no coffee left.

 

 

 

The mixtape lives inside Kelly’s coat, now, and her vision continues to haunt her. She doesn’t like the next cabin, an abandoned fishing shack perched on the shores of a lake polluted by mining activity. The corrugated tin roof is too loud, ringing through her dreams when it rains. Castiel is more inscrutable than ever. He spends hours by the lake, only returning to periodically make sure Kelly is doing okay. To hold her hand and let the light fill his eyes again. Then he’s gone again, and Kelly plays mobile games on her phone and reads What to Expect When You’re Expecting and some trashy John Grisham novels she’s picked up along the way.

When the sound of a vehicle sounds through the trees, Kelly hopes Cas is leaving to get snacks. But she knows already, before she even sees the Impala.

Dean is alone. Sam is nearby, somewhere, lying in wait. But it’s raining, and Dean is alone, and he waits before he knocks on the door. Castiel comes in cold from the back door. It’s like watching a film she’s already seen before. The dead look in Castiel’s eyes. The sound of Dean’s boots squelching in the mud. And above it all, the rain.

When Dean knocks, she jolts.

"He's not here," she says. Maybe it was a warning, not a vision. Dean just blinks at her, and she backs away. "Castiel isn't here," she repeats. "He doesn't want to - " But there he is. She doesn't know it until Dean looks over her shoulder. Until the anger kind of fades and blends into some kind of lost puppy look, and Kelly thinks of that fucking mixtape again.

“Might wanna change your plates," Dean says, nodding back at the truck. "Go to a junkyard or something, rip some plates off. You'll get away with it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

There’s no weapons this time. No traps. Just Dean, standing on the threshold, eyeing Castiel and Kelly and the rotting wood frame of the cabin. "Got some real luxury accommodations here.”

“Humans have been born in worse places.”

“Just saying. Bunker’s safer. And if - if you and Kelly want to come back? We can keep an eye on things. Maybe - Sam says, he’s thinks he’s found a way. A way to help Kelly survive the birth. You guys will be okay.”

“Really.”

“Yeah. Really. We think -” Dean licks his lips. “Maybe we were too quick to judge. Maybe we don’t need to jump the gun on this. If we can keep Lucifer away - “

Cas’s laugh is bitter and sharp. "Dean. Stop. I can see into your soul, you know.”

Swallowing, Dean shuts up. Backs half a step away, reaching for his belt. So there are weapons, then. But Castiel only laughs again. “What are you afraid of, Dean?”

“I ain’t afraid,” Dean sneers. “Whatever the hell you are, I’ve taken down worse than you.” Now he has a knife, something silver and slim. The baby kicks again, struggling, and Kelly can see the power smelted into the steel.

“You feared Amara once. But you were the one to give her faith, that time.”

“Yeah, I remember that. Your daddy possessed Cas that time. But we got him out. Your point?”

“Amara restored your mother to you with her power, power that could have destroyed the universe.” Cocking his head, Cas advances. “Did you forget your lesson, Dean?”

“My lesson? What - “

“That this isn’t as black and white as it seems. That power isn’t something to fear. You witnessed a miracle, Dean, by embracing the darkness itself. This is mine. Who are you to deny this?”

“I’m your friend. I’m the one who’s been up and down and through it all with you, Cas. Since when have we ever needed miracles? Don’t look at me like that. Don’t act like you don’t know that we - we - we’ve always brought it on home. Together. Because that’s how we work, Cas.”

"And when was this, Dean? What have we done? You and me, we've not -”

“Saved the fucking world. Don’t you deny it.”

“I would have stayed with you a thousand times over. That was then. But this is now, Dean. You have no part in this.”

“Of course we’re part of this, you fucking jackass,” Dean says, rough and scraped. “You’re part of us. You’re a part of me, Cas. How is that so fucking hard for you to see?”

“Dean, I - “ Cas starts, and tries to close the door on Dean's foot. Dean shoves past the doorjamb, grabs Cas by the tie. Forces him to look at him.

"What do you need me to do? What's it gonna take? Do you - do you need me to kiss you now or something? Is that it?" Cas flinches, but Dean never lowers his eyes. "Where are you, Cas?"

Cas hisses, long feathered shadows extending over his shoulders. "This child is the best possible thing that could happen. Not only for the rest of the world, but for _us._ For Sam and you and me, for all of us. It showed me the future, Dean."

"Right. Like that's something you can trust."

" _Our_ future."

Dean swallows and lets go. Sags back on his heels, all soft and damp and tired. It's almost scary how fast he can make these switches, from belligerent and terrifying to fragile. "Just come home, Cas. That's all I'm asking. Just come home."

This is it.

This is what he showed her.

Kelly can’t breathe when Castiel walks to Dean and takes his hands.

Cas kisses Dean, soft, and she freezes.

But Cas draws back. Says, “Dean. Find your faith first. Then? Come find me.”

And slams the door.


End file.
